Freedom is not a bird that can fly away,
but the nest that brings comfort.
It is not the absence of walls,
but the presence of open doors.

It does not scream with fire,
it hums quietly in a morning breeze.
You do not chase it across the sky,
you sit with it,
and it stays.

It is the silence after the storm,
the choice to leave or to remain.
It does not demand,
it listens.

Freedom is the warmth of belonging
without the chains of expectation.
It is the root and the bloom,
the stillness that allows you to move.